


I call out to the wolf

by unconventionaled



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, First Time, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-10
Updated: 2013-02-10
Packaged: 2017-11-28 23:39:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/680185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unconventionaled/pseuds/unconventionaled
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Girls who go into the woods alone get eaten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I call out to the wolf

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sheneedstobeprotected](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheneedstobeprotected/gifts).



> Happy Birthday, Laura! I love and adore you and hope this fic works for you because it's a departure from the things I normally write (I seemingly do a lot of experimental porn?) If it doesn't just tell me and I'll write you something else because obviously the point of a birthday gift is to make the receiver happy.

Maybe it's her fault.

The stories circulate around town, the rumors and the whispers and the certainty. "Don't go into the woods," they say. "There are wolves there." And when some innocent child is quick to cry "puppy!" they shush her, chide her for bringing curses down on everyones heads. Silence is meant to keep them all safe. Privately, Elena wonders if it just keeps them silent. When the fear around her gets too cloying she wants to scream from it. To howl like one of them at the sky. But that would undoubtedly get her committed. She's seen the hollow human simulacra who issue from madhouses and refuses to become one of them. Elena values her own agency.

Maybe that's why she ventures into the woods.

Of course, the main reason is that Jeremy's sick and winter's coming on. He's in Beacon Hills, across the way, and she doesn't want him to get caught, a stranger in a strange land, for three months. The rumors about the wolves are even stronger surrounding Beacon Hills. She will not expose Jeremy to that. She won't. And if the only way to get to him and bring him home is through the woods, then through the woods Elena will go. 

She kisses her aunt's cheek and tells her that she's going the long way, and that they might have to come back through the snow if things get really bad. It's a lie but a lie for a good reason so that ought to make it excusable. Elena is willing to risk her life but not willing to drag her sick brother through a winter snap. These are her priorities and no there's nothing wrong with them, thank you very much. But as she takes the first step out of her house, a breeze pierces the red of her cloak, a protective color to shield her from harm. She draws it closer about herself and shudders even though she's not cold. It feels like someone's watching her but there's no one there. Elena resolves to walk quickly.

Her boots crunch against the skeletons of autumn leaves, scattering brown flakes about. Above her head, wind loop-the-loops through the trees, creating a sound like she's being followed. That's just the woods, though. Seemingly designed to cause fear out of absolutely nothing. Human nature and imagination at its worst. The perfect storm of absolutely nothing at all. Elena shakes her head at her own folly, but she also quietly begins to walk more quickly. Wolves or not (likely not), there's no reason to spend longer in the woods than necessary. The faster she walks, the sooner she'll get Jeremy and bring him home. Nothing more, nothing less. It's not that she feels watched, or tracked, or like there's something nipping at her heels, melting away into the mist every time she turns her head. That would be insane. And Elena is not insane. She is many things, but she's not crazy. And she does not intend to become so.

About an hour in, with just four or so hours of walking to go, she relaxes. (Maybe that's the mistake she shouldn't have made.) She'll stay overnight with Jeremy and then bring him back, not wanting to make the trip twice in one day, trying to hurry him by before the sun sets as early as it is wont to do and they're both left stumbling about in the dark. No matter what superstition and tradition dictate, there is nothing to fear here. She drops her guard.

If she hadn't done that, she might not have tripped. If she hadn't tripped, she might have walked through the woods unfettered, blissfully unaware. Of course, she might also have been killed.

There's no point in such speculation, though, because Elena does trip. Her foot catches in the root of a tree and she stumbles, landing gracelessly on her hands and knees in the dirt. Hissing with frustrating and a bit of pain, she wipes off her palms, looking up to find someone standing in front of her. Elena starts, scrambling backwards and ignoring the stranger's proffered hand. She knows better than to touch someone she doesn't know.

The foreigner comes to her in bits and pieces. Long slim legs, clad in the noiseless leggings favored by hunters. Elegant hands, tipped by fierce nails. Red lips twisted into a smirk. Chestnut colored curls tumbling over olive skin, arms and neck and even collarbones bared. All impropriety aside, how does she not freeze in this weather? Doesn't she know winter is coming? All of that pales, however, in the shadow of the one truly significant detail, the thing that has Elena staring like a moron, shaking though she hasn't even realized adrenaline floods her system. She wants to flee but how can she, when the wickedly smiling woman across from her is none other than herself?

"Why do you look like me?" If her voice shakes, Elena thinks that might be excused. After all, though she's never heard tell of a situation quite like this one, common sense holds that when one comes in contact with one's duplicate, one is probably about to die. Selfish or not, she isn't ready for that. Her life still means too much for her.

The imposter cocks her head. "Interesting as that is, I don't think that's the important question," she murmers, and her voice isn't exactly like Elena's. It is, but she rasps a little more, her tone drizzled with a dark syrup.

Elena disagrees. Vehemently. If the grim reaper looks like her, she'd very much like to know, please and thank you. She steels herself, tries not to let any part of her shake too much, and responds. "Then what is?" If this is going to be a cat and mouse way to die she's going to run now, because she refuses to be played with for hours on end.

"Who are you?" Behind the vortex of energy pulling her, the kind that would pull any observer, towards this stranger, there's a flicker of genuine curiosity. At least if she doesn't know she isn't an angel of death, she hasn't been sent specifically to collect Elena's soul. That thought shouldn't be comforting but it is. Any port in a storm.

"Elena," she announces, then realizes that lying might be a better strategy. If she's not hallucinating, if she's not dead or about to die, she doesn't want her own copy to be able to find her. "Elena Fleming."

"I'm Katherine." Katherine's dark brows are raised in condescending amusement, and the cold feeling trickles down Elena's spine that she knows she's lying. Worse is the certainty, nipping on the heels of that realization, that Katherine likes it. She's beginning to feel ever more trapped, and despite the openness of the woods, her chest squeezes claustrophobically. Katherine's presence is crushing the air out of her, constricting her into nothing at all. "So, Elena  _Fleming_. What are you doing here?"

She knows. She definitely knows and Elena's just hoping that she can't hear the frantic beating of her heart as it tries to flutter out of her chest because fear has leached into her spine and stolen her voice and she's not sure she can reply. This is terrorizing and wrong and now that it's begun she just wants it to end as quickly as possible. _Get on with it, Katherine,_  she silently begs.  _Kill me if you're going to, let me go if you aren't. But don't let things hang like this. I don't think I can take it._ "I'm just passing through." She's proud that she doesn't stutter. "I have no intention of leaving any mark or lingering."

Again, Katherine turns her head to the side and she's caught by the terror of doing something wrong. "Haven't you heard the tales of these woods?"

"Which ones?" Elena knows exactly which ones she means. The ones where maidens are dragged out of their beds and their lovestruck beaus follow the trail into the trees. Neither is ever heard from again, and that night everyone hears the howling that marks a kill. The ones where only blood is left in the snow, blood as red as the cloak wrapped around her.

"The ones where everything has a price. You can't pass through these woods for free." Though she hasn't moved, Katherine's presence presses on Elena as though she's right up in her face. "The ones where your life will do if you have nothing else to pay with." This smile is sharp. All predatory edges and teeth Elena is certain weren't that wicked and purposeful a few seconds ago, but she can't think about it. Can't think about what exactly that might mean because she doesn't want to know the answer. It presses on her chest.

“I haven’t… I haven’t got anything,” she hedges. “I have a few coins…?”

Katherine rolls her eyes. “So I can walk into your butcher’s shop, buy a pound of flesh? No thanks. I prefer mine warm.”

It comes to Elena that these might be the wolves she was warned against. These, women who don’t look like anything, who look like her. That wolves might not be literal (then again, it might, who hasn’t heard tell of shifters?) but rather a description of what they do. Tear you apart without a shred of remorse. Haunting does not even come close to capturing this woman’s gaze, the way she picks Elena to pieces and discards everything. Who but a wolf would eat meat raw?

“I haven’t go anything else,” she repeats. “I’ve my cloak and money for the night. Nothing… Nothing else.”

Suddenly, Katherine’s at her side, pressing far too close, smelling of spice, strangely enough. Cinnamon and something exotic, something wild. Elena expected her to scent of fetid meat and death. “You have your breath,” she purrs. “I could take that. You have your hands, your pulse, your unblemished skin. You have your eyes, your ears. I don’t want your hair.” She tucks a strand of it behind Elena’s ear and the gesture isn’t a bit reassuring. It just makes her feel sick, violated, because she didn’t ask to be touched like this. “You should really be thankful, you know?”

She doesn’t mean to blurt it but she can’t help it. “ _Why_? You’re going to kill me.”

“Maybe,” Katherine corrects. “ _Maybe_  I’ll kill you. There are some who would have done so on sight. We have to exact tolls, you know. You have to pay to venture through our woods. I’m willing to negotiate costs. I don’t have to take life. I just can.” She examines her nails like it means nothing to her and Elena strikes out wildly. Hoping she’ll hit truth, that it will make her lookalike reconsider.

“Is it because we’re the same? Is that why you don’t want to kill me? You’re worried it would hurt you?”

Katherine snorts. "No. I have to admit, I've never seen another me before, but you don't smell like me. You don't move like me. You aren't me and you aren't a homonculus, so I don't particularly care. If you'd like me to kill you... I'll make it quick. Ish."

"No!" Elena blurts. She doesn't want to die. Whatever else has to happen, she doesn't want to die. "Isn't there anything... else?"

"We don't deal in your currency." Katherine's getting bored. She can tell. There's a restlessness about the other, the novelty of her own doppelganger has worn off and left only boredom. Bloodlust. "Choose, Elena, or I will choose for you."

She doesn't want to. Doesn't want to lose her eyes or her hands or her skin or her life. "Me?" Maybe this won't work.

"I can kill you." Katherine shrugs.

"No!" That's not what she meant, and now Elena's racing to gather her thoughts, to try and force down the flush that's creeping across her cheeks because if ever there was a time to push away modesty, when in negotiation for her life is it. "No, I mean... you want to leave your mark on me, right? Take something. My eyes, my feet, my life... What about..." She bites her lip, trying to find a way to circumlocute, because she is in no way going to willingly offer up her virginity to this monster. "I'm... untouched. As yet," she clarifies, feeling stupid. "You could take... that?"

Katherine laughs, her eyes raking over Elena's body. "Well, I have to give you credit for effort. It's creative." That's not a yes or a no, and Elena's stomach twists. She's honestly uncertain which she'd prefer, which option would be worse. "But you're me, aren't you?"

"As far as we can see." Most of Elena is covered by her cloak, blood-red. She should have worn blue, worn green, because red may be the color of luck but it's also the color of sin. Spirits work in incomprehensible ways. This isn't going to work and she's going to die.

A thick moment passes, Katherine seemingly considering the offer, Elena waiting. Shaking. Her palms are sweating and she feels like she might throw up though she barely ate that morning. "Fine." Katherine nods suddenly, her eyes meeting Elena's. "That's a deal. I keep your virginity, and you get safe passage." It's not just a physical transaction, there's power in things like innocence, power that Katherine is stripping. Elena really doesn't want to know what she'll do with it. "But if fucking you is boring, I'll kill you anyway."

That's a terrible bartain and Elena knows it. Katherine cedes almost nothing, and she has numerous opportunities to lose. Yet if she doesn't agree, she'll just die. Slowly, she nods.

"Go on, then, Elena," she mocks. "Impress me."

It's cruel and Elena knows it, but she wants to silence the smirk on Katherine's face. The one that says she doesn't believe she'll actually go through with this, that thinks she's just a little girl playing at being grown up without any idea how it actually works. She wants to prove that she went into this with her eyes wide open and that she deserves respect for it. She's not going to back out, and Katherine sure as fuck better let her leave this forest afterwards. Goaded by the you-don't-know-what-you're-doing-little-idiot expression Katherine doesn't even bother to conceal, Elena leans forward and kisses her.

She's kissed before, if by before you mean Matt, mostly chaste little things by the well, his fingers in her hair as he murmurs about the life they're going to have together. She does her best to tune that part out. Frankly, she's not ready to be married and settled down, and the fact that he envisions such things with her scares her.  Drawing from that limited experience, she presses closed lips against Katherine's, so much softer and more pliant than Matt's, raising her hand to tentatively thread through her curls. 

A laugh spills against Elena's lips, and she's about to brindle, to back off and just snap that Katherine ought to kill her because clearly this game is just some kind of stupid humiliation ritual when teeth dig into her lower lip. Elena gasps, her lips parting in a little 'o', and Katherine's tongue slips past them. Some kind of tinder sparks inside her, starting a little fire and honestly she has no idea what was going on, only that it feels good. That Katherine's mouth is slanted against hers and her hands are on her hips and it feels like she's being eaten alive in the best of ways. Hesitantly at first, Elena returns the gesture, running her tongue over Katherine's bottom lip. She's never really been taught a script for this, the best she knows how to do is to "lay still and let her husband get on with it". Can two women even...? How had she not throught of this before! Elena freezes suddenly, sure she's being tricked. That she'll be destroyed.

Katherine pulls away from her. "You're not having a seizure, are you?" she asks drily.

"What?" That's enough to start Elena from her fear, and she glares heatedly. "No, of course not!"

"Good god, someone would think you have no idea what you're..." Katherine trails off. "You're human." A positively evil look spreads across her face, and she eyes Elena with undisguised flaring interest. "You really are innocent, aren't you? All feeling and no idea what to do with it." She grabs one of Elena's knees through the fabric of her skirt, pulling it away from the other and pushing the fabric up Elena's legs. Despite her thick woolen socks, she shivers, not sure if this is the part she's heard about, but then again that's only with a man. How does one give one's innocence to a woman? She realizes she hasn't thought this through, but Katherine just kneels between her spread legs, reaching out to curve her hand around the back of her head. "You're right." She smirks. "This is fun."

When her lips lower down onto Elena's, this time she knows what to expect. She parts her mouth without urging, allowing the joining of their lips and tongues, swirling together in a kind of dance, to intensify the heat in her belly. Instinctively she knows it's building to something, but isn't quite sure what. This is so far beyond her realm of experience, but she buries her fingers in Katherine's hair again and grips her like she's drowning, their chests flush against each other. She can feel the softness of breasts against her own, and to her surprise it feels good. She likes it, she likes the curve of Katherine on her. Incomprehensibly, it feels good. Like a cat, she arches her back, rewarded by a purr rumbling through Katherine's throat. Clearly that was the right thing to do.

Elena realizes with a burst of relief that she can measure rightness by what feels good to her, that maybe because they have the same bodies, the same sensations will work for them both. She's not expecting it, however, when Katherine's mouth leaves hers and attaches instead to the soft hollow behind her ear. Elena whines. Apparently that's a correct response because it earns her another kiss-bite at her pulse point, her fingers clawed meaninglessly in Katherine's hair. 

Her duplicate's delicate fingers slide along her back, and Elena doesn't quite realize what she's doing until half the fastenings on her shirt have been undone and cold air rushes in. She resists the urge to pull away. This is what she was asking for, isn't it? This is the trade she's made. Instead, she pushes Katherine's chin up so she can kiss her again, taking the opportunity of distraction to be the one who bites, nipping Katherine's lower lip and slipping her tongue into her mouth, trying to take some control of the kiss. The sound of the last fastener coming undone and the way she's pushed down onto her own cloak, untied from her own neck, steals her power. Whether or not she's in charge of their mouths, Katherine is indubitably running the rest of the show.

The near-winter chill that replaces the warmth of her blouse makes Elena gasp, her hands twitching against the urge to cover herself. Her nipples, already pebbled from desire, peak instantly in the cold air, and she's never been this exposed before anyone. It's simultaneously fascinating and humiliating, the way Katherine lets her gaze shred Elena, running across her chest without concern for shame or modesty. She's looking up at the other woman, who's sitting back on her heels, and even though she doesn't feel able to get up, Elena reaches out. Tentatively, she runs her hand down Katherine's own chest, feeling the softness of her breasts the slight hardening of her nipples through her shirt.  _Does she not feel cold?_  Elena wonders. Apparently not. Something dark flashes in Katherine's eyes as Elena's fingers run across the point of her breast and she returns to it, circling around the little bud and just watching the way Katherine reacts.

A smile is her only warning.

Like a bird of prey, Katherine descends, taking one of Elena's nipples into her mouth and sucking on it, causing her to cry out. She hadn't thought of doing that but now that Katherine did it seemed natural because it tugged on the strings in her belly and made her want so very desperately, aching for more contact, for more of the same kind of stimulation. Her hands scrabbled at Katherine's back, but the fabric of her shirt was smooth. It lifted over her head, like a man's. Her belly pressed between Elena's legs, the pressure igniting something so that Elena canted her hips up, testing. Her motion isn't as subtle as she'd like, apparently, because she can feel Katherine grinning into her skin, all feral. Shame briefly fazes her before fingers hook into the waistband of her skirt.

Almost desperately, Elena grabs the hem of Katherine's, trying to pull it over her head. She's not ready for that yet, not ready to be completely bared, because there's a certainty that her leggings will go with her skirt, even if her boots remain. Suddenly she realizes that Katherine is barefoot and wonders how she manages not to slice her feet into bloody messes. Obliging, Katherine lifts her arms, her torso suddenly as naked as Elena's. She latches onto the other breast, eliciting another cry at the light nip she places, every sensation coiling into a hot mess in Elena's stomch, but she wants to explore too. More confidently now, she trails her hands up Katherine's naked torso, toned and muscular where hers is soft and pliant. She wonders what a woman might do to be strong and yet feminine like this. Because Katherine is indubitably feminine, the way she arches her back as Elena rolls one of her nipples between her fingers, the soft moan she makes that lets Elena know when she gets the right amount of pressure. If this is all it is for a woman to lose herself to a woman, Elena wonders why it doesn't happen more often, why no one mentions it as an option. She's always heard that wifely duties are painful, onerous, something to lament and avoid as much as possible. This is intoxicatingly good, the kind of sensation she doesn't think will be enough just once.

All too soon and yet not soon enough, Katherine's hands find their way back to her skirt, tugging down on it. She could fight, but then both this pleasure and her life would be forfeit. Instead, Elena lifts her hips, permitting her clothes to be dragged down her legs, even as the sudden exposure makes her clench low in her stomach and between her legs. There's something right about it, even if it's unbearably wrong. Her boots are pulled indelicately off and discarded along with the rest of her clothing, and she lies there like the depravation of the Madonna, completely bared and squirming.

Leaning over her, Katherine smiles, one finger trailing down between her collarbones and her breasts. She clicks her tongue when Elena reaches up as if to touch her, and dips her finger into her bellybutton. As her finger gets closer and closer to her slit, Elena bites her lip, can't bring herself to meet Katherine's eyes. This is the part that's supposed to hurt, that's supposed to be wrong and dirty and bad. Instead, Katherine does something, moves her hand in such a way that she barely touches Elena and she moans. Her eyes fly open, seeking Katherine's gaze, uncomprehending. Without any idea what just happened she wants more of it, wants to feel that almost aching pleasure again. 

The amusement on Katherine's face is undisguised. "Shall I try that again?" she purrs, and Elena can only nod, lightning running through her when Katherine's fingers return to the bud, circling it intently. Without her consent, Elena shudders. Her voice is caught somewhere in her throat, leaving her only able to whimper and want. This is kite-high, and when Katherine pulls away, removing all contact, she glowers. Somewhere in her mind Elena knows she's supposed to be giving up something, not gaining, but how is she supposed to feel like this isn't in her benefit too when it feels so good. Maybe she's ruined, but this feels more like ecstacy and she wants more of it.

Standing, Katherine peels off her own leggings. Elena stares unabashedly. Her legs are long and toned, olive hue exactly matching her own. She can just see the shadow of her slit between them, and the sight makes her mouth go dry, stirs a twinge between her own legs. She's only ever seen another woman naked in brief glimpses, never actually looking her fill, but Katherine is beautiful, hips and waist and everything, so much so that it's almost a loss when she kneels between Elena's legs again, folding up the wonder that is the length of her. Almost. But Elena's shivering with anticipation and when Katherine leans down to kiss her she intercepts her, rising up a bit to catch her mouth in a searing lip lock, running her hands down the planes of Katherine's back, curving around the top of her ass. Every bit of her is gloriously smooth and easy to touch, and she reacts contentedly, sighing and murmuring with enjoyment even as she returns the touch. Everywhere is bare skin on bare skin and Elena wants something she can't name, she just knows that it exists, that they're that much closer to getting there.

Not breaking their kiss, Katherine spreads her legs more, and the ensuing rush of terror is met by a frightening rush of equal excitement. She's entirely splayed for this predator, vulnerable in the extreme, and she likes it. Especially when Katherine slides her fingers back between Elena's legs, teasing her ache for completion before returning to the nub that spread fire through her body, made her want to twist and scream with the wanting. She rubs wetness there, coating Elena with it, before doing something entirely unexpected.

When Katherine grinds against Elena, she cries out, silencing herself with a bite to Katherine's neck. Given her low moan, the contact has to affect Katherine equally greatly and she retracts her hips before driving them back down, rubbing against Elena as if there is no shame in it, just mind numbing, swamping pleasure. Elena’s belly flutters as they rub together, her every limb sparking, entire body curved around Katherine, running the same kind of kisses and licks and bites across her shoulders as the other woman placed on her, seeking to mimic the places that made her see stars. Every bit of contact is too brief, too fleeting, and she seeks to hold it to her, make it last longer, draw out every bit of pleasure that she can obtain, because at some point this has to hurt and feel bad. It’s a kind of stealing, after all, but until that point she might as well try to enjoy it.

She aches with emptiness when Katherine slips down her body, removing the pressure of their grinding together and leaving Elena wanting, digging her fingers into Katherine’s hair in a kind of plea. This time, though, Katherine licks further, her mouth pressing a heated trail down Elena’s belly, down the top of her leg and nipping her thigh so that her breath coasts across Elena’s opening and Elena honestly has no idea what she’s doing.

At the first press of her mouth, she locks her feet around Katherine’s back, bowing and whimpering without her brain’s assent. Katherine’s tongue flicks across her, teasing the bundle of nerves that make her shudder and sliding along her entrance. Elena can feel the muscles clenching, begging to be attended to, and when Katherine finally slips a finger into her, not letting up with her mouth, Elena whimpers her name.

Slowly, she delves in and out of her, slight friction nowhere near enough because there’s something definite Elena’s working towards now and this won’t get it, as good as it feels. She doesn’t know how to express that though, so she’s grateful when Katherine adds a second finger, increases her pace slightly. From her limited knowledge she thinks this part is supposed to hurt, but it doesn’t, there’s a bit of uncomfortable stretching for a second when she adds a third finger, but it’s eclipsed by shocks running through her system and the flood of utter desire as Katherine ups her pace, actually _curling_ her fingers inside Elena.

That, over all else, tips her over. A broken noise falls from her lips as she spasms, her entire body curling up and in as she’s whited out with pleasure. For a moment she can’t even think and it feels so good it almost hurts, Katherine’s hands all over her but mostly at that point of heat between her legs as she unravels. This has to be the loss of innocence, but it doesn’t feel like something’s gone but rather like she’s been injected with liquid gold, the shocks lasting for several long moments before Katherine lets her fall, back into the reality of awareness.

Aside from “needing to” for her survival, or whatever else, Elena suddenly realizes she’s grateful. She wants to make Katherine feel like that, make her come apart and cry, because there’s a contentment stealing over her and if this is defloration it’s a lot more perfect than anyone ever told her.

“How…?” she murmurs, wishing she knew. Wishing she had some sort of background. “How can I make you…?”

Katherine’s grin this time has something different behind it, something almost kind. She slithers back up Elena’s body, both of them slightly slick with sweat that rapidly cools in the pre-winter air. “Use your mouth on me,” she instructs, settling herself on her knees on either side of Elena’s chest. “I can do the rest.”

This does not seem entirely fair, but when Katherine’s hips come to rest above Elena’s face, she softly runs her tongue along the wet pinkness of Katherine, open and inviting. She’s never seen aught like this before but she likes it, likes the sense of power she gets when Katherine shivers at her touch. She tries again, testing the nub at the front of Katherine’s slit. It’s the same as on her and Katherine grinds down on her lips, rocking against her mouth.

Elena slides her hands up her duplicate’s legs, bracing them on her ass as she leans up to apply herself more vigorously to stimulating Katherine, repeating anything that earns her a cry, and responding to every shift of Katherine’s hips. Though Elena knows Katherine’s doing most of the work, rolling against her in the way that works, she thinks she’s learning. Her tongue slides up into Katherine, earning a jolt of pleasurable surprise.

Before too long, she shatters above her, back arching and crying out as she shakes, Elena just holding on until Katherine collapses forward on her hands and knees, rolling off from atop Elena, onto her back on the red cloak. They lay there for a while, until Elena begins to shiver with her own nudity and the sun is high in the sky beyond the treetops. Mid day. She's going to be unbearably late and Jeremy will ask questions she doesn't know how to answer. Perhaps she can say she was caught in mud, but she just doesn't know.

"I..." She looks up to find Katherine's holding out her shirt. She herself is already wearing her leggings again, but remains without a top. Gratefully, Elena dresses as Katherine does, allows herself to be tied into her cloak.

Something feels different about her. She'd expected it would, considering that she'd given her innocence as a tribute. The surprising part is that it doesn't feel bad. Instead, she feels more aware, more alive, open and beautiful and when she looks at Katherine, lips swollen, hair mussed and eyes bright, she realizes that's what she must look like. Painfully alluring. Stepping forward, the wolf (though Elena's still not sure that's what she is) places a delicate chain around her neck, silver with an intricate design, and something that looks like a locket clasp, though she can't quite see from this angle. "What's this?"

"Protection," Katherine explains. "It's shows you've paid the toll. You can pass through the woods without fear, at least until the herbs in it die. Once they do, we'll be able to smell it, and you'll no longer be safe. It only applies to you, no one else. You have to pay again to recieve the same protection." She raises the corner of her mouth. "And I'm afraid you only had one copy of your virginity."

Elena looks down at her boots, cheeks burning crimson. Everyone will know, she thinks. The price she paid. They'll all know and no one will ever touch her. Surprisingly, the thought isn't quite as abhorrent as she'd like, even if she'd hate to miss on again stealing almost audible high of mind numbing pleasure that Katherine gave her. "Thank you," she murmurs. She's alive, perhaps even more so than she was when she entered the woods.

"Go on your way, Little Red Riding Hood," Katherine goads. "Before the wolf changes her mind and eats you anyway."

Elena's taken barely two steps and she's gone, melting into the trees as if she was never there. She shivers, but it's not with fear now, but rather a kind of rush. Something much more dangerous than fear. She'll go and she'll get Jeremy and she'll never come into the woods again. There are wolves there, she met one, and it's her fault. She tells herself she won't risk this again, it would be a suicide mission.

But the necklace all but burns into her skin and it's just possible that she's lying.

**Author's Note:**

> I KNOW we all hate fics in which Elena is sexually inexperienced because she's a wonderful girl with her own agency and sexual desires and ideas about what to do with them so please bear with me. This is AU. ALTERNATE. UNIVERSE. Which means that it would just be anachronistic for Elena to be empowered about her own sexuality. So if that didn't work for you, this is my excuse. If it did because you can see beyond the setting to the character I tried to capture, extra points for you. 
> 
> Also there might be a continuation to this at some point but don't count on it I just have something of an obsession with fractured fairy tales. Okay that's all. c:


End file.
